


For Love and Life

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Series: SladeRobinWeek 2018 [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sladin, Virgin Sacrifice, Warnings in summery, sladerobinweek, sladerobinweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-29 06:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16258694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: Day 6 virgin sacrificeWarning for dark themes and graphic violence and blood. Dark.





	For Love and Life

  Day 6: virgin sacrifice

* * *

 

“Please! Please no- please!” the boy gasped, so terrified he was trembling under Slade’s hand as his ebony hair was gripped in the large fist. His fear was understandable, of course. Just a few minutes prior he had been a screaming blubbering mess, watching as one by one of those he had been brought in with met their end by Slade’s own hands. If the shock of it all hadn’t kicked in to partially incompasitate and separate the boy from what was happening… what was about to happen… he would still be trying to break his own wrists to escape his bonds and screaming incoherently as Slade shoved him down to his knees in the bathroom.

 

It was funny in a way, the mind defensively going into shock to try to protect the young lad from the insanity that the reality of the situation would no doubt drive him too. Instead it only solidified his fate, rendering him unable to fight back with any real strength or coordination.

 

A few pitiful tears rolled down his cheeks as Slade dragged him over the edge of the tub. They dripped from his chin into the tub below, causing the smallest of ripples to fan out across the surface of the blood that filled it. The blood that had just been harvested from 49 of the 50 virgins Slade had painstakingly collected and kept imprisoned for months in preparation for this night. This night when all his labor would finally bear fruit.

 

It was dark magic at its finest, a necessary evil as far as his own mind was concerned. It would not be justified, however, it would be cruel to insist that the ends could ever justify such brutality, such sacrifice, but it was still one he was willing to make. Over and over again. He had carried out this magic, and he would continue to do so for as long as time permitted.

 

Only on this last young man did he hesitate, gripping the soft black tresses till a cry of pain and despair echoed in the stone bathroom. He was hardly a man, really, closer to being a boy still. His skin was fair and smooth, provided with nothing to clothe it since arriving. His body was lean… lanky if anything, with almost no fat making it almost appear as if he had muscle, but rather it was just that that was all he had left, no strength behind it. His wrists were rubbed raw from his cuffs, and he continued to whimper and tremble as Slade brought his knife around to the front of the boy’s neck. The virgin’s brown eyes blurred with more tears, reminding Slade that for any semblance this lad shared with his lord, he was not so. Not even close.

 

Slade made it quick, drawing the knife firmly and cutting into the flesh, the hot blood spraying his hand and knife before hitting the surface of that which was already filling the tub.

 

The boy choked and jerked in his hold a bit more, and Slade held him while the blood drained away his life.

 

There was a wood shoot across the room, one that led down into the furnaces that heated the sunken bath from below. Slade had no sooner disposed of the bodily remains into it than a soft knock sounded upon the bathroom's chamber door.

 

“Slade?”

 

He turned to find his lord standing there, those bright blue eyes meeting Slade’s own from the withered face of his lover. No matter what else changed, those eyes were a constant and Slade felt he could forever recognize them. Lord Grayson was near the end of his life, weak at the best of times, and tired always. He should have waited for Slade to fetch him, but he only chuckled when Slade said as much, inching further into the room, trying to hide the way his hip and back were hurting him to do so. He was covered in only a stately sapphire robe that weighed him down with its thick velvets and a collar of soft black fur extending down to sweep the floor.

 

Slade rushed back across the room to take his hand and guide him along, wishing he could just carry him. Knowing Lord Grayson, however, it would only start a fuss. Lord Grayson waited no longer to undo the strings of his robe, letting it drop to the floor in his wake as Slade helped him along. Wrinkles marred his body, and his pale skin was freckled with age spots. His body sagged in places, his rear drooped, and his stomach and thighs had become paunchy with age. He still was beautiful to Slade, forever would be, but this wasn’t sustainable.

 

Slade did lift Lord Grayson once he was at the tub’s edge, the older-looking man pliant in his arms as Slade scooped him up like a bride. “It’s time again,” Lord Grayson sighed against Slade’s chest armors.

 

“Indeed, the magics have been set, and the blood of 50 virgins collected and sacrificed once more.”

 

Lord Grayson gave a feeble nod, closing his eyes as Slade lowered him down into the tub as slowly as he could, speaking ancient Latin incantations in the candlelight of the bathroom.

 

The blood swallowed up Grayson’s body inch by inch, first his legs and arms, and then his stomach, his torso, his neck, and then at last his face as he took a breath and fully submerged into it. Slade continued the spell in Latin, the red blood darkening, churning and turning black upon the surface. Slade spoke the ancient rites to pull the young and virile properties from the blood itself, and then suddenly it was calm once more, the surface still as though it had never been touched at all.

 

It was after but a moment of the stillness that the surface bulged and broke around the crown of Lord Grayson’s head. The man slowly rose up from it, just as careful as when he had been placed in. The blood stained him red on every inch of his exposed form as he stood from it, no longer the way he had been just a moment ago.

 

Even through the blood-stain, Slade could see that the magic had worked once more, Grayson’s body returning to as it had once been. No longer were there wrinkles, but tight supple skin stretched over a lean and muscular form, healthy and young and beautiful beyond fairness. His lips parted to take a gasp of air, and his eyes fluttered open, searching for Slade. As soon as those bright blue eyes from a moment ago landed upon him Slade was reaching out, taking his lord and lifting him out of the tub, the blood stale now that it had given up its virtues to his restored lover.

 

Neither of them paid the blood any mind as Lord Grayson wrapped his arms around Slade’s back and pressed his lips to the now older man’s. Slade knew the blood would stain the silver of his hair the worst, but he didn’t care in that moment as his lover kissed him so passionately. So gratefully.

 

He was indeed grateful. Slade knew it because he was also grateful.

 

No matter how many times they did this for each other, the gratitude was always there, and it was always strong. Slade would not require the favor returned again for many years yet, content so long as Grayson was there with him for it all the way, taking care of him while he grew old just as Slade had done for him. Loving each other in a circle without end.

 

They would have to move again, pick up all new identities, but that also was not unknown to them. Tonight, however, they had no worries.

 

Grayson batted those long blood-crusted lashes up at him, his face still pretty even under the blood. “My huntsman provides so well for me,” he purred, pressing harder against Slade, making sure his newfound vigor had not gone unnoticed by the elder man.

 

Slade hadn’t a chance at missing it, naked as Lord Grayson was. “My lord blesses me so well,” he smirked, giving his familiar return to the man’s familiar praise.

 

Grayson grinned devilishly at that, the whites of his eyes and his teeth stunning amidst all the red and for a moment he looked almost demonic. “Shall I bless you in spirit… or in body?”

 

Slade made no move to stop his lover as the younger man pulled him down to the floor next to the tub, adding to the already blood-stained floor as he laid himself down upon it and parted his long elegant legs for the huntsman. Slade followed after, cradling the restored body against his own as he kissed his lover with passion more fierce than they had dared for years now. Now his lover’s body could handle it once more.

 

Slade had every intention to take advantage of that, again and again until he became too old to do so any longer. Then once his lord restored him as well to his own youth, he would continue once more, again and again. Death never to part them.

 

* * *

Subscribe for day 7: kink

Spoiler: robinpile, lotta kinks, and Slade!!!

 


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